Harry Potter and the Unexpected Family

Loki was seething.

In his thousand years of life, he had never suffered such a humiliating defeat. The Trickster God, master of illusion, misdirection, deception and strategy, had been bested by five mortals and his elder brother. A force of SIX had thwarted him in his righteous conquest; was there anything more pathetic?

Loki shifted where he sat, muzzled and shackled by Asgardian restraints in the cell designed to hold the raging pet beast of SHIELD. His cuffed wrists were connected by a two foot chain that was bolted to the floor in the middle, forcing him to kneel here in a manner wholly beneath a prince of the Realm Eternal. The position just drove home the unprecedented, humiliating situation he now found himself in.

How could he have failed? A planet as backwards and weak as Midgard should have been the simplest conquest in his long line of military successes. They had inferior technology, were under-informed about the universe beyond their own atmosphere, and certainly lacked beings strong enough to win against him - or so he thought. Thinking of the Avengers made his blood boil in embarrassment and rage. Their measly force should not have been enough to stop him if he was determined to succeed.

Loki shifted, sitting slightly more upright as a small voice in the back of his mind latched onto this; he was Odin Allfather's most senior military strategist, an accomplished war hero whose schemes and machinations had ensured victories where others saw only certain death. To have failed in this way was not just mortifying and rage inducing, but completely illogical. Had Loki not faced odds one hundred times worse than the “meeker might of Earth”? How could he have failed?

Trying to focus past the dense fog of rage that clouded his mind, Loki reviewed the events of his time on Earth. He picked out all of the flaws and uncharacteristic points in his plan; his arrival had not only antagonized one of the greatest opposing forces right from the moment he set foot on this backwater planet, but it also displayed his greatest asset and weakness to the enemy - his scepter. His targets for mind control were not only highly skilled agents but those with the most powerful allies within the organization, making them even more motivated to stop him. He sourced the iridium from the most visible and highly secured location he could, in the most ostentatious way possible. He needled at each individual member of the misfit team of humanity’s defenders, giving them an enemy to rally against. He bottlenecked his forces through the portal and had them condense their attack to a small, relatively well defended area. He allowed the portal to have a kill switch. 

Every single step in his plan seemed designed in a way that projected a desire to win but was ultimately doomed to fail. Loki could not understand why he would cut himself off at the knees in the way. Ruling Midgard, or any planet, was his greatest desire, his divine right and the perfect revenge against his “father” who was charged with the protection of this world.

So why did that small voice inside of him sigh in relief at his defeat?

Thor rested his hammer beside his chair on the bridge of the helicarrier, the same place where the Avengers had first strategized in their defense against Loki. It had been two days since their success, and they had gathered here to debrief and determine what was to be done with their prisoner. Agents Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff were seated next to one another, chairs closer than was customary in this realm but only slightly so. Tony Stark sat across from them, typing quickly into his phone while flirting with a tech who had just handed over some reports to Agent Hill. Bruce Banner was looking rumpled and exhausted between them. Thor assumed he appeared so anxious as a result of being back in a place that he associated with a recent Hulk transformation. His shoulders hunched a bit and his eyes followed the SHIELD agents like he expected them to start shooting any minute. Steve Rogers was just getting settled into his chair, back straight and eyes focused on the tablet in front of him with the initial debrief reports, when Fury entered.

As soon as the director walked in, Hawkeye spoke. “So, Fury, when do I get to shoot him and drop him into a volcano?" Clint’s voice was cavalier on the surface as he jokingly smirked at his boss, but his steely undertone left no doubt as to his ability to follow through with the threat. His shoulders were tense, and the other Avengers looked at him in sympathy while Natasha pressed her knee against his, a subtle move that contrasted her carefully unreadable expression. None of them could imagine having a god tearing apart their head, and Thor especially felt responsible. He was sure that Midgard, and consequently Hawkeye, had been targeted because of Thor’s own love for the planet and its people. Strange and short lived though they were, Thor considered the mortals endearing and had vowed to keep them under his protection. His failure in this regard had humbled and saddened him greatly.

Thor turned to the man, head slightly bowed, and allowed the regret to show in his low rumbling voice. 

“Clinton, you have been hurt greatly by my brother, of this there is no question. I would not deny you your vengeance if it were anyone apart from Loki. He is greatly flawed and no doubt has brought destruction on your world that ought never have been, but he is still my family, and I must insist that he be returned to Asgard unharmed to face the Allfather's judgment.”

The Man of Iron snorted. “Why not let Robin Hood here have a little fun before you ship Reindeer Games back to Daddy Dearest? He’s earned an arrow or two, don’t you think?”

Dr. Banner sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose at Tony’s antics. “Tony, I think a little interplanetary diplomacy is called for here.”

Thor nodded his head to Bruce, a silent thanks for his support. “The Allfather may understand your anger with Loki, as do I, but to harm a prince of Asgard while in your custody would be tantamount to an act of war. Talented fighters though you all are, I can assure you that the wrath of Odin will be too great for you to face.”

Steve looked at Thor with sympathy, but also resolve. “I don’t exactly feel comfortable handing over an enemy combatant without some guarantees about justice and security.”

“I agree,” Fury chimed in with his clipped tone, clearly still angry at having been attacked by the god in the first place. “What assurances can you give us that you can contain Loki?”

Thor rolled back his shoulders in what was clearly pride. He regretted that his brother was in this position, but he had complete faith that Asgard could hold even the Trickster God. “There has never been an escape from the dungeons of Asgard. They are more secure than your facilities could hope to be, especially considering that we have the technology to suppress his magic. If we were to leave him here, his silver tongue and illusions would no doubt have him freed quite quickly.”

“I still say you let me put an arrow through one of those creepy blue eyes of his,” Clint grumbled.

This made Thor pause, turning to face the fierce scowl on his new shield brother's face. “My brother’s eyes are bright green, not blue.”

Clint’s brow came together even further in confusion and irritation. “I spent a lot of time reporting to the guy. I think I know the color of his eyes.”

“When I interrogated him, his eyes were definitely blue,” interjected Natasha. She peered at Thor, and then Clint, a speculative expression on her face.

“Well,” Tony said, leaning forward to put his tablet down and turning to face the large monitor mounted on the wall next to where Hill was standing alert. “Let’s check on old Blue Eyes then, shall we?” He typed a few more lines into his tablet and the monitor lit up; Fury heaved a very put-upon sigh at Stark's lack of professional boundaries for hacking into their systems again. The group turned to look as one half of the screen played footage of Loki’s face from during the Black Widow’s interrogation, the other half displayed live footage of the god from his cell.

Thor stood quite suddenly, walking to the screen to be sure he was seeing clearly. The old footage showed his brother with cloudy blue eyes, and as did the current footage. Thor’s heart clenched in pain and hope. 

He turned to the rest of the group. “We need to call my mother.”

Frigga walked into the Bifrost chamber and stopped beside Heimdal, looking out into the cosmos toward where her sons were located on Midgard. 

“Why have you summoned me, Heimdal?” She tilted her head to look at him, concerned and anxious. She had been informed of Loki’s actions on Midgard and was grateful that Thor had been able to stop him from succeeding. She was devastated at the pain that Loki must be feeling to have done this, and she was glad that he had failed; surely, the Allfather’s judgment would be less extreme because of this. 

Heimdal bowed toward the queen, and spoke in a low, rich voice. It surprised her to hear both the subtle hope and concern in his voice.

“Allmother, I have been watching over your sons on Midgard, and Thor has requested that you join him there. He has discovered evidence that Loki’s mind has been harmed or tampered with in some way. He believes that your sorcery would be best suited to identifying and correcting the problem, and that to do so in the presence of the Midgardian fighters would be best.”

Frigga’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes becoming misty. Was her son being harmed, or controlled? She felt her face morph into a fiercer version of Heimdal’s own expression. 

“Send word to Odin. I will go at once.”

Tony had never been one to feel intimidation from authority figures. It was one of his favorite qualities, as it allowed him to annoy powerful people to no end, and everyone knows being an irreverent, arrogant rebel was part of his charm. Fury, for example, had the most hilarious irritated expression, and Tony liked taking these I-rule-the-universe types down a peg. It was part of what made fighting Loki so fun.

When the queen of Asgard entered the room where Loki was being held, that itch he usually felt flew out the window. She was so incredibly graceful, so beautiful, so regal. He couldn’t help but stand straighter when she approached. She just exuded power, but in a motherly, affectionate sort of way. That might have been down to her expression; her eyes were solely focused on Loki, worry and pain and love so evident on her face that it made Tony ache. And that was saying something, because he wasn’t generally a very sentimental kind of guy. 

Loki sneered at his mother, as much as he was able behind the mask. The loathing in his face made it ugly, his blue eyes narrowed as she approached the glass cell. 

“Mother, it is good you have arrived. I have recently been made aware that Loki shows signs of tampering with his mind. His eyes are the clouded blue of someone subjected to the will of another.” Thor spoke urgently, eyes flying between his mother and brother anxiously.

Frigga turned to her eldest son, placing a hand on his cheek. “You were right to seek my counsel, Thor. I can sense strong and harsh magic coming from him. He is indeed being controlled by a being of immense power.” Thor tensed and gripped his mother's hand, seeming to both seek and give comfort. A single tear had rolled down Frigga's cheek as she turned back toward Loki.

“I will enter this cell and try to remove this foreign presence from his mind, and then we shall see what he can tell us of how this came to be.” She looked at Fury, eyebrow raised imperiously but not unkindly, and even the great Director of SHIELD, the spy, rushed to follow her orders. 

The door slid open, and Frigga went to kneel before Loki.

“All will be well soon, my little raven. Just close your eyes.”

It felt like waking up from a horrid nightmare. Loki's brain pounded with a migraine as he opened his eyes to stare into his mother’s face. She looked eagerly back, letting out a half sob, half laugh in relief at the brilliant emerald she saw there. Loki’s mind felt clearer than it had in a year, the fog of rage gone and replaced with exhaustion, guilt, and pain.

“Mother…”

“Oh darling, it’s alright now. Come here, love.” Loki practically melted into her embrace, shoulders trembling from the effort to hold in tears as he soaked in the comfort she offered him. He felt grateful that his bindings had been removed during the hours his mother worked to purge the foreign magic from his mind. His thoughts were still settling themselves, and he pulled back, shaking his head a bit as if to clear it. 

Thor stepped towards them, brow furrowed in concern and hand half outstretched, as if he wished to place it on Loki’s shoulder but was afraid he would be rebuffed. 

“How are you feeling, brother?”

Loki wasn’t sure. His own brows came together as he tried to concentrate. “It’s … cloudy. And my head aches as though I’ve been struck by your ridiculous hammer.” He turned to face his brother eyes boring into his. “I am sorry brother, I couldn’t stop it. I tried to force him out but he was too strong.”

Thor quickly crossed the rest of the way over to kneel and embrace his family. “You have nothing to apologize for, dear brother. You were not in control of your mind, and these were the crimes of another.”

Someone behind Thor coughed to get his brother's attention. “Thor, we need to debrief Loki on what happened here.”

“Yes, of course, Director. Allow me to escort my brother to someplace more comfortable where we can discover what has happened.”

Loki struggled to concentrate on what was being said. However, he was soon too shocked to pay any mind to those speaking. He had glanced toward the voice only to lock eyes with a certain man standing amongst those he had fought days ago. Suppressed memories came flooding back, and the confused thoughts he was trying to order all of a sudden became clear. At his gasp, everyone turned to look at him, but he only had eyes for one. 

Slowly, he stood. “... Tony?”

Tony stared into the greenest eyes he had ever seen. His overactive mind threw out a quick huh, I didn't notice how hot Loki is before he refocused on the strange interaction happening. He was struck by the familiarity of them, the sense of home and warmth he felt looking into that face. It shocked him, making him uneasy. Why did he suddenly feel like he could trust the literal god of lies? He was so not a guy who felt sappy, naive stuff like that.

Everyone else in the room looked confused at why Loki and Tony were suddenly staring so intensely at one another, but it was Steve who asked what was going on. Tony turned to see concern and confusion in the eyes of his new kinda-friend. He shook his head, trying to figure out where that bone deep familiarity came from. He'd only felt that once before…

He turned back to Loki, who had tears in his eyes. “I remember,” Loki whispered, sounding ecstatic and heartbroken all in one. “Oh Tony, I’ve missed you.”

Now Tony was really weirded out. “What are you talking about, Reindeer Games? Is this some kind of play? Trying to flirt your way out of a jail cell? Because it’s only kind of working.”

Loki laughed, tears starting to fall now, as he stepped closer to Tony. “Maybe I should show you who we are to each other.”

Then a warm green glow surrounded him, and once it disappeared, Tony inhaled sharply, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut as he exhaled a breathless "fucking hell". The god no longer looked as he had a moment before, but had transformed into a human man, older than Tony remembered but undeniably recognizable. His jet-black hair had shortened and taken on a wild and untamed curl, he lost a tiny bit of his height (though he still towered over most everyone, having gone from 6'2 to 6'), a still teary troublemaker smile adorned his lips, and eyes that had shifted to hazel with flecks of gold remained locked with Tony's own. The image was only subtly different from his Asgardian form, but it brought back such potent memories, and made that earlier sense of trust and familiarity surge forward, even stronger now in the face of this ghost from his past.

Tony took an unsure step forward, his heart beating fast in his chest as he looked at the face of one of the only two people he’d ever truly fallen for. 

“James?”

At that, James (Could it really be him? Was this a trick?) gave a small grin; despite the tears, he looked every inch the charming troublemaker. “Did you miss me, love?”

Now, Tony wasn't a man who was ever caught speechless. He always had the last word, usually an insult or a quip to get the other person's blood pressure up for his own amusement. So, this feeling of having no idea how to react was an entirely new experience. He found himself momentarily overwhelmed with memories as he looked at the face of one of his lost loves.

Tony had been 21 and in the height of his party phase when he met Lily and James. He came across them in a club in the city, and he was immediately drawn to them. Lily had the most vivid green eyes and fiery hair, and an energy to match it. She was vibrant, all bright smiles, flashing temper, sharp wit, and infectious joy. And James; if Lily felt like being enveloped by fire, James was being swept away by teasing wind. Tony had immediately wanted him for his artfully tousled hair, his free and unburdened laugh, his lithe, athletic build, and a smile that promised fun and mischief. 

They were the picture of youthful freedom, taking life by the reins and seizing every moment for all it had to offer. In the midst of avoiding his new responsibility as the CEO of Stark Industries, Tony never questioned their matching desire to live hard and fast. It was what he was looking for at the time.

Tony expected to spend a great night with the young newlyweds and leave it at that, but they stuck around in the morning. Tony found that, even when he wasn't drinking and looking for a good hookup, he enjoyed the Potters. They didn't ask him for anything except his time and company, and it was so refreshing to just bask in someone's wit and affection that he eventually stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. They spent increasing amounts of time together, and within two months Lily and James had convinced him to date them. 

They had six months together overall, the happiest Tony could remember, and he finally saw a future for himself that he was excited for. That is, until one morning he woke to find a letter and all of the Potters' things gone. They had written that they loved him more than anything, and they would stay if they could, but they didn't want to put him in danger while they sorted something out back home. Tony hadn't been able to understand; what could be a danger to him? He was a famous weapons designer with some of the best personal security in the world. 

Tony waited for them for months, but when he received no word, he grieved. He let himself fall brutally back into partying, doing harder drugs and neglecting his health more than he ever had, trying to forget the messy black hair and bright green eyes he thought he'd wake up to for the rest of his life. Obadiah used his heartbreak to push him further into burnout and several day-long engineering binges, exploiting Tony's genius while keeping him too strung out to notice his own shady dealings. It wasn't until Tony hired Pepper that he started pulling himself out of the pain of losing James and Lily, and then after Afghanistan he worked on making himself into someone he could be proud of if he ever found them again.

Tony never got over them, so seeing James here before him, looking at him with love and pain and hope, was overwhelming. This couldn't be real. He had to see if this was just the god fucking with his mind and playing a cruel joke. 

"If you're really my James, then tell me what you said the night I agreed to be with you and Lily."

James' smile widened even as his eyes turned a bit sad. "I told you that I was the luckiest bastard in the world to have you both, but that wouldn't stop me from switching the sugar and salt shakers to prank your morning coffee."

That was it. Tony remembered laughing when he'd said it the first time, and he had never told anyone else about that moment. He knew this was his James.

After the initial wave of joy and longing, however, Tony felt pissed. “What the hell is going on, James? You left, I couldn’t find you, and now you turn up as an invading Asgardian God of Daddy Issues” Clint snorted at that, but fell silent when Nat shushed him, “and kill a bunch of people? What the hell? Why didn't you tell me who you were sooner?”

James reached up to run a hand through his hair in a move so familiar it pulled on Tony’s heart, not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. He did have a reputation as a lovable bastard to maintain. James spoke, ignoring everyone else in the room as he all but pleaded with Tony to listen.

“Lily and I were being targeted by an extremely powerful enemy, and by the time the problem had been solved, I had no memory of being James at all. It wasn’t until my mother just healed me that the magic blocking my memory was removed. I would have come back to you Tones, I promise.”

James had always been a good liar, he had to be for all the jokes and pranks he pulled, but now he looked split open. The honesty in his eyes was undeniable, so Tony allowed himself that bit of hope he’d been trying to squash since that first morning alone. 

“You really left to protect me? You didn’t get tired of me and run away?”

At this, James surged forward and pulled Tony into his arms, crashing their lips together with all the pain and passion and care that Tony remembered. When he pulled away, he put their foreheads together and whispered “Never, elskan mín. I love you. We both loved you. And I won’t let you go again.”

After the initial confusion, they had all moved back to the bridge. Loki, still in the form of the man called James, was seated between his mother, whose expression when looking at her son was so incredibly soft and maternal, and Tony, who seemed unable to move more than a foot away from the god. Thor was beside Tony, Nat and Clint sat next to Thor, and Bruce sat beside Frigga, all of them alert and ready. Steve and Fury sat across from Loki. Tony looked close to shock, but stared fixedly at the god-turned-man he seemed to know, as if desperate for him to make sense of this.

Loki took a breath, squeezing Tony’s hand in his before speaking. “Fifty years ago, I asked my father Odin if I might spend some years in Alfheim, the realm of the light elves. They are renowned for their sorcery, and I had wished to study amongst them. I faced ridicule and disdain in Asgard for preferring the so-called feminine art of magic to the more appropriate study of war and weapons. My father was happy to see me sent away, and readily granted my request. He always favored Thor, his true son and heir, and my pranks and tricks irritated him to no end. We were both happier apart, and I left with his blessing.

“I spent ten years learning from the elves, and though I enjoyed my research immensely, I still felt lonely. There was no one there I felt close to, and I realized that I had left Asgard, not for magic but for family.” Loki/James turned to his mother. “I love you dearly and always have, but living in the shade of Thor’s popularity and under the disapproving eye of the Allfather made me long for more.”

Frigga pressed a kiss to Loki’s forehead. “My child, you deserved better, and I’m glad you sought the love you needed. You must never apologize for finding your place.” 

Loki’s answering smile was warm, softer than he'd ever looked since most of the team had met him. Of course, being under the control of some powerful space villain couldn’t have been good for healthy emotional expression. Turning back to the group, Loki continued.

“Realizing that I sought connection, I began traveling the realms looking for a place that felt like home. It wasn’t until I came to Midgard five years later, a place called England, that I found it. I was sitting in a cafe one day when I overheard a couple lamenting their inability to have a child. They had tried for years to conceive, but despite their efforts were not able to start a family. Soon they would reach an age where having children would be an impossibility. I watched them for a few hours as they shared a loving meal, went to the park and the store, and home again. They treated one another with such care and love that I felt myself longing to be a part of it. So, I decided to give them a child. I performed a ritual that would send my soul into the womb of the mother, leaving my body in stasis back on Alfheim while I lived a mortal life. I would have no memory of my life as Loki until I died.”

Loki turned to Tony, saying the next part almost gently. “My name was James Potter, son of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. I was raised in England as an only child. I was happy and very loved.”

Tony took a deep breath, hanging on every word. Not quite understanding the significance of this but seeing his friend's intense reaction, Thor reached out, placing a hand on Tony's upper arm and squeezing gently in support. Tony’s other hand went up to rest on top of Thor’s, a silent acknowledgement and thanks without ever looking away from the man he knew as James.

“My chosen parents were a part of a hidden society of magic users called wizards and witches here on Midgard. The Potters are an old family in England, with a strong magical heritage, a moderate sized fortune from generations of potions masters, and a reputation for using their political influence to progress the wizarding world forward. When I was 11, I received a letter that invited me to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as my parents did before me, and I spent seven incredible years amongst the hidden school for Midgardian magic users.”

Here, Bruce interrupted. “Is there really a secret community of … wizards, you called them?” At James' nod, Bruce turned to Fury. “Did you know about this?”

Fury scowled in annoyance, presumably at having a secret shared without his approval. “Yes, witches and wizards have existed as long as humanity has, but they went into hiding around 400 years ago during the times of the witch trials and burnings. They have their own culture, government, schools, banks, neighborhoods, history, even creatures.”

The group, aside from Natasha and Clint who had the clearance to know this before, stared at Fury, stunned for a few moments before they returned their gaze to Loki, eager to hear more. His lips tipped into a small smirk at their enthusiasm before he continued.

“While I was at school, I became fast friends with three other boys in my year who would become my brothers in all but blood. We were known as the Marauders, the best pranksters to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts." Here, James took a shaky breath, visibly repressing some deep and aching emotion before going on. "I also fell in love with a girl named Lily Evans. She was beautiful, but what drew me to her was her sharp wit, fierce loyalty, and her complete intolerance for bullshit. We were married at 18, a few months after we graduated.”

As tense as Tony was holding himself as he took in the story with razor focus, the team almost missed the genius let out a barely-there whisper of “Lily”. The longing and affection in his eyes were clear as day, which was surprising from the man who had a cocky playboy mask good enough to fool even Natasha. His vulnerability spoke to how shocking this was for him.

“Why did you marry so young?” Natasha asked. She was never one to beat around the bush, though in this case her bluntness wasn’t hostile. 

Loki’s expression fell slightly. “There was a war going on. A man who called himself Lord Voldemort was trying to take over the wizarding world, based on a philosophy of blood purity, essentially magical racism. He was of the belief that Muggles, or non-magical people, should be exterminated or enslaved. Those with 4 magical grandparents were considered purebloods, and were believed naturally superior. Those with two or more magical grandparents, or halfbloods, had less status, and muggleborns with less than two magical grandparents were considered scum and unworthy of studying magic. He amassed followers called Death Eaters and began a fifty year campaign of domestic terrorism, murdering all those who his dogma claimed to be unworthy, as well as those who stood against him. It was a truly dark time, and a lot of people married young in response to the fear. 

“Lily and I were a part of an organization called the Order of the Phoenix, a resistance group dedicated to fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters and protecting our community from his genocidal violence. Lily and I were given a mission to try and enlist the support of American Aurors, or magical police. We stayed in New York, the capital of magical America. While we were here, we met a muggle named Tony Stark.”

All eyes turned to Tony. He leaned forward, gently rubbing his thumb over Loki’s knuckles. “Why didn’t you tell me you two were in danger? I would have protected you. I would have helped you.”

Loki gave a soft laugh, turning his hand up to twine his fingers with Tony's and gazing at him with such fondness it almost felt intrusive to witness it. “We had both fallen in love with you, Tony. How could we ask you to risk your life like that? Especially when you couldn’t defend against magic?”

Tony’s hand tightened and his lips pursed, clearly fighting emotions he was unused to expressing. He looked almost angry, but not enough to mask the longing and loss in his next words. "So instead you left me? James, you had to know how that would crush me."

Loki turned fully toward the man beside him, pulling Tony toward himself so he could wrap his arms around the shorter man's shoulders and hold him close. Tony immediately returned the embrace, burying his face in the crook of Loki's neck. Thor looked like he had never seen Loki before, and the pain in his eyes was real. Frigga’s tears silently fell as she learned the hardship her child had suffered without her even knowing. The rest of the room felt the weight of Loki’s story; they all knew what war and violence could cost, and they felt both Loki and Tony’s pain.

After a minute Loki leaned away from Tony and placed his hand on his face, wiping tears away as both held onto each other's hands.

Loki took a shaking breath. “We left because we were called back to the war. The six months we spent with you were incredible, and we meant to come back to you once we had defeated him. But then things changed.” There was so much raw emotion in Loki’s voice as he stared deep into Tony’s eyes before he continued. “When we got back, I found out that I was going to have a baby.”

Tony gaped. "What do you mean, you were going to have a baby? I mean, we certainly had some kinky times together,” Here, he gave a fleeting smirk that matched Loki’s at what must have been pleasant memories, “but we were both so careful with birth control with Lily."

James gave a small smirk as he looked at Tony, his eyes showing his humor and mischief at whatever he was about to say. "Yes, we were careful with Lily, and it was very effective. You and I, however, weren't as cautious." Here, James turned to address the group. "In the wizarding world, it is rare but possible for a male magic user to become pregnant. They are called bearers, and the pregnancy is sustained through magic entirely. A pregnancy sustained by magic also tends to produce magically powerful children. I am amongst the most magically powerful beings in the universe, so it makes sense that I would have this ability. I wasn't aware of that at the time though, because I had locked away my knowledge of my life as Loki, and so I never considered that I was one of the rare few wizards who could conceive." Loki turned back to Tony, squeezing his hands a bit where they were still holding one another. His expression was full of love and intense grief. "Lily and I couldn't have been happier, though. We planned to see the threat of Voldemort defeated and then come home to you, tell you the news, and be a family together. The three of us and our little surprise." His breath caught on the last word, and he looked down and their joined hands.

Tony was stunned. First of all, because the sheer absurdity of a man getting pregnant took a minute to wrap his head around. That, however, didn't come close to the shock he felt at having fathered a baby. He had always been so scared of being a father, of turning out just like Howard, that he took every precaution possible to prevent it from ever happening. It wouldn't have happened if he had known to account for magic and male pregnancy, but how could he have known? If he had, he would have insisted on measures to prevent it because he knew that any child fathered by him would have the worst luck in parents.

He was surprised, then, to find the warmth spreading in his chest at the idea of creating a tiny life with the ones he loved. There was a small, awed smile on his face as he whispered, “I’m a father?”

James tensed, his face twisted into poorly hidden despair. Without looking up, he croaked out “You were a father. We named him Harry James Anthony Potter, and he was the most beautiful baby in the whole universe. He was smart and sweet and happy and full of mischief, and Lily and I couldn’t have been prouder of him." Here the wistfulness was clouded over until steely anger and pain reigned on James' face. "But then there was a prophecy that said our son was destined to be Voldemort’s undoing. We went into hiding to protect him, but Voldemort found us anyway. I sent Lily away with the baby and attempted to fight him, but with my godly magic bound in my mortal body, I fell to his wand quickly. I clung to this realm as a specter while my soul tried to rejoin my original body on Alfheim, and I had to watch as Voldemort hunted Lily and Harry. My wife died, and I couldn’t stop him from turning on our son. I couldn’t save Harry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t save our baby.” Then he broke down, the sound of repressed sobs filling the room.

Frigga was at his side in an instant, her own tears wetting Loki’s hair as they clung to each other. Loki’s pain poured out of his as Tony sat frozen, unable to move. A small part of his mind marveled at how massive the wave of grief was for a child he had never met and now never would. He felt his own eyes fill, threatening to spill over.

Fury, Natasha, and Clint, however, were confused. They were up to date on the current war in wizarding Britain, Fury had even considered bringing the Avengers in to assist after seeing them work together against the Chitauri invasion. He knew the story of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. He stepped forward and, with a gentleness none of them had seen from him, spoke. “Loki, your son is alive.”

Loki was standing so fast none of them saw him move. The pure hope that Fury was right was almost dizzying, and he didn’t feel entirely in control of himself in response to it. He grabbed the front of Fury’s jacket, the need for answers practically screaming from his face. Tony stood too, hands clenched and eyes wide, waiting for Fury to explain.

“How is my son alive?” Loki gasped. “Before my soul went back to my body, I saw Voldemort turn his wand on him. I heard him start to cast the Killing Curse. When I came back to find him, to be sure, he was gone so I went to Dumbledore and explained about my heritage and life as Loki. He told me that Harry had died, along with my friends, so I left. Are you telling me that I abandoned my son here on Midgard?”

Fury could see Tony about to burst open with his own questions, so he started talking before he could, and told them all the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived; an unexplained miracle that made a one year old the savior of the wizarding world. "We gathered this intel from our only wizarding contact, and we have only the barest details. We know where he lived until he went to Hogwarts and still spends his summers, and that two weeks ago the Ministry of Magic confirmed the return of Voldemort, after Harry Potter fought him at the end of his fourth and fifth years."

Loki had never released Fury's leather trench coat, and with those words, he clenched his hands even tighter, anchoring Fury to the spot. Loki's eyes blazed, his face a visceral image of unbridled rage. Everyone tensed; this is the closest Loki had looked to the madman they fought in New York, despite him still wearing the face of James, and they were all wary of what he would do. "That snake eyed bastard has attacked my son again?"

Fury, feeling a heightened sense of caution at the violent protectiveness emanating from Loki in front of him, just nodded once.

Loki turned to the father of his son. Tony looked stunned by all of this still, but that genius mind that had enchanted him all those years ago was working quickly, and Loki could almost see the shock being overwritten with determination, anger, and protectiveness.

He smiled his Merchant of Death smile at Loki, looking the perfect cutthroat counterpart for an enraged god, and said, "Let's go find our son, and then kill the bastard that hurt him."

And Loki fell in love all over again as he matched his former lover’s sharp grin with one of his own. 

"Let's go skin a snake."